Don't Trust the Cucumbers
by a.lesser.saint
Summary: Post-Raving. Stiles and Melissa McCall discuss Scott, Allison, sex, and nutrition, much to Stiles' discomfort. With a bonus chapter of Stiles then explaining to the pack why Mrs. Argent tried to kill Scott.
1. Chapter 1

AN: I don't know why Melissa is talking about these things with Stiles, other than the fact that he's there and practically family. Mostly because I enjoy parental interactions and uncomfortable Stiles is way more fun than Scott.  
AN2: This completely glosses over any angsty fall-out or drama from that episode.  
Additional: In this fic Scott doesn't recover from the wolfsbane overnight, as it seems that he did on the show. Oops.

Chapter 1

Standing at the doorway, Stiles awkwardly hefted the books needed for the assignments that Scott had missed by taking the day off school to recover from wolfsbane inhalation. The teen let himself into the McCall's home using the key he'd been given in the fourth grade when Scott proved incapable of not losing his own key. He peeked into Scott's room and found his friend sprawled out across the bed, snoring softly, with the blue screen of a DVD screensaver gleaming on his face.

He dumped Scott's homework on his desk, turned off the television equipment, and spread a blanket over him, as unobtrusively as he could. In other words, half the books immediately slid off onto the floor with a muffled crash. Then, on his route back from the television, he tripped over one of the books, bashed his shin on the bed frame, and literally fell over onto Scott, catching himself with an outreached hand that landed on Scott's bare ankle, thankfully to no reaction from the sleeping werewolf. And finally he swatted Scott directly in the face with the corner of the blanket when flipping it open.

He quickly left before he could do any more damage. Scott had no doubt suffered enough for this week.

On his way out, he decided to reward himself for his humanitarian efforts with a little snackage and detoured to the kitchen, where he found Melissa McCall, who had just arrived home from work. At which point he remembered that he and Scott were not supposed to be hanging out.

"Oh crap, I'm not really here; I'm just a figment!" he exclaimed quickly, with arms raised as if in surrender.

Melissa looked up, startled, then broke into an easy smile. "Relax, sweetie. I wasn't serious about the 'no Stiles' thing. Well, I _was _serious, but I knew better than to think it might actually stick. Did you pick up Scott's homework for him?"

He nodded, calmed his breathing, and plopped down on a chair at the kitchen table, asking Melissa about her day and eagerly recapping the many mini-dramas of Beacon Hills High. He had a lot of things stored up to say since his usual audience had been absent that day.

He finally started to wind down roughly about the time that Melissa had finished preparing dinner and set a plate in front of him. Three minutes later, Stiles had practically hoovered his portion, while Melissa was still pushing her dinner around her plate.

Eventually, she leaned back and began to eye her guest with intent. Her son had recently become surprisingly adept at evading any conversation that involved mention of Allison Argent, but here was a source that might be easier to shake down. After all, he did just spill far more details about Danny's latest date than the general public should probably know.

"Stiles, I was wondering, are Scott and Allison back together?" she asked conversationally.

Impressively, he didn't even flinch. But he also didn't look at her. "Back together? Scott and Allison? Pfft."

She applied a little more pressure. "Stiles, I'm a mother. I can tell when you're lying."

"Damn, does _everyone_ know that trick around here?" he muttered. He decided to go with an overly literal truth. "I would not say that they're together right now, Mrs. McCall, no."

"Well, have they been sleeping together?" she pushed onward with no mercy.

Stiles sputtered and choked on the mouthful of milk he'd been swallowing. "Sleeping together? Scott and Allison?"

Melissa sighed wearily and dropped the inquisitor act. "I found a box of condoms in his room."

"Oh, that's just wishful thinking on his part," Stiles waved it away breezily.

"It was a box of twelve, and there was only one left," she added pointedly.

"Wishful thinking and tactical training on a bushel of bananas." There might have been a hint of beseeching in that remark.

"Stiles—"

"Why are you talking to _me_ about this? I have never sullied a single banana in your home." Stiles folded his arms and tried to stare her down.

She drew in air, gearing up for another round of questioning, when she realized that the teenager probably had a point. "You're right. I'm sorry, sweetie; I have no business discussing this with you. Scott, on the other hand, will be getting an earful about sneaking around with nice girls like Allison. I don't understand it. It's disrespectful, to her, to me, and to Allison's family. Her mother was just as shocked as I was."

"Her… mother…?" He deflated from his perceived victory in nanoseconds.

"Yes, I went to see her at the school." Her appetite restored, Melissa turned the majority of her attention to her dinner.

"And did you tell her about the…" Stiles literally could not manage to finish that sentence.

Distracted, she frowned at her plate, struggling to get a particularly tasty-looking morsel to stay on her fork. "Yes, I felt she had a right to know, a need to know. A girl needs to be able to talk about these things with her mother."

"Oh my god. Oh dear sweet fluffy lord." Stiles ran his hands over his hair, but as it was too short to pull out in horror, he settled for dragging his fingers roughly down his face.

"Allison's mother was very grateful that I told her," Melissa successfully corralled the bite and quickly shoveled it into her mouth.

Stiles shook his head in disbelief. "Ah geez, you can't be doing this to me. Heart problems run in my family, you know."

Melissa paused, laying her fork down and finally looking at him with concern. "Well, then maybe you should cut back on the fries, sweetie," she said, only half in jest.

Stiles leapt on that like a drowning man to a life preserver. "Ha! I'll have you know that I have! I've been forcing my dad to eat more vegetables, and he said that if he had to suffer, then I do, too. Apparently, shared suffering is one of the basic tenets of family life, according to Dad. Of course I'm paraphrasing. Anyway, I've only had three servings of curly fries in the last week."

"Um, that's very good, Stiles." Melissa attempted to look encouraging, while fighting the urge to laugh.

Stiles replied solemnly. "Thank you. I've been studying up on nutrition and proper diet. For example, did you know that cucumbers have basically no redeeming qualities? Almost no nutritional value whatsoever. You'd think that there would be, to compensate for those bumpy things on the outside and the gross texture inside and all the seeds that get stuck in your teeth, but no, nada, nothing. Of course everyone knows about the nutritional non-value of celery, but then there are the cucumbers, just lying there in your salad all innocent-like, seeming healthy but totally not!"

Melissa blinked a few times. "Are you trying to change the subject, Stiles?" she asked.

"I kinda thought that I already had." He flashed his most charming smile.

Melissa raised an 'I wouldn't be so sure of that buddy' eyebrow, proving that she read the same parenting guidebooks as his father. But, also like his father, she soon let it drop with an exasperated yet fond shake of her head in the presence of Stiles' 'How could sweet innocent me possibly be involved with such villainy' look of wide eyes.

Melissa conceded, "Okay, Stiles, I'll take it up with Scott when he's feeling better."

Stiles nodded his head firmly, then realized that there was one thing that still needed to be said. "One last thing, then we never have to discuss this stuff again, I mean never, ever, _never _again. But, see, Mrs. Argent… is not your friend. Seriously, not at all your friend. In fact, the entire Argent entourage—" he illustrated with a sweeping circle of his arm, "Allison excepted, naturally—are not good people. But especially Mrs. Argent. Think of her like cucumber."

Melissa was slightly baffled by his clear distaste, but patted his hand soothingly. "Okay, sweetie. So, new topic, let me tell you about this infected toenail I treated at the hospital today. You could have filled a teacup with all the pus that drained out of it. Honestly, if the guy had waited just one more day to get it treated, we would have had to amputate."

Stiles gaped at her. "Wow, is this all some sort of new diabolical punishment for the restraining order thing, 'cause I am _legit_ going to have nightmares tonight."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The following evening, Stiles hurried into Derek's den of quite possibly iniquity, running late to the pack's latest brainstorming meeting due to yet another detention from Mr. Harris.

He was trying to sneak in quietly, but of course Erica caught him and called out shamelessly, "Hey Batman! Come and join the party."

Stiles meowed in greeting to her, waved haphazardly to the rest of room, and burrowed his way into the couch next to his best friend.

Derek didn't seem to notice his arrival, his eyes distant with thought. "I just don't understand why the Argents would suddenly violate the code so flagrantly by trying to kill Scott," Derek mused aloud.

Stiles perked up. "Ah, I may be able to shed some light on that," he stated with an arch look around the circle.

"Well?" Erica prompted impatiently when no light was immediately forthcoming.

"It is a somewhat delicate and private matter, between Scott, Allison, and several other concerned parties. I'm not sure…" Stiles dithered.

Derek leveled Stiles with his patented 'are you going to tell us now or do I need to start assaulting some basketballs up in here to persuade you' look. Stiles then looked pleadingly at Scott, who shrugged.

"Okay then. It seems that Mrs. McCall told Mrs. Argent about how Scott has been defiling her darling little girl."

The entire pack just stared at Stiles for a moment, processing all the nuances of that statement.

Stiles helpfully began to further explain. "And by 'defiling,' I mean—"

Scott interjected, his voice nearly a full octave higher than normal, "We know what defiling means, Stiles!"

Derek recovered his composure and raised his eyebrows. "Well, I guess that explains her sudden urge to get rid of Scott."

"But how? Why? How did Mom know that? Why do _you _know that? Why would Mom _tell her_?" Scott stammered in horror.

Stiles raised one arm partially, then spoke without being called upon. "I can answer part of that, too. Kudos on the prophylactic use, but major fail on the proper concealment of your supplies, dude. Your mom found an open condom box in your room."

"Shit," Boyd offered sympathetically.

"Yeah," Stiles agreed.

Scott groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face. "Well, guess I now know what Mom wants to discuss with me after dinner tonight."

"Yeah." Stiles couldn't quite hide his puckish glee, earning him a shared grin with Isaac and a dirty look from Scott. "Hey, if I have to suffer through a conversation about it, _and_ the subsequent nightmares…"

"Shit," Scott sighed.


End file.
